Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 138217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
“Sadly, I have to agree.” Payal’s tone was solemn. “The Substrate is healthier than it’s been for a long time, but we’re stretched so thin, Kaleb.” A more personal tone to her voice now, a hint of the exhaustion felt by every A in the system.
“The problem is Ivan Mercant—or the lack of more like him.” Kaleb had sent out countless psychic bots into the PsyNet, searching for any hint of another person with the same subset of abilities. “I’ve hit zero. So has Aden. The empaths, too. Anchors?”
“Nothing. Yet to know that two members of a line were confirmed to have it, with a third a viable possibility, it’s difficult to say it’s not genetic. And it’s rare for Psy abilities to be limited to a single line.”
That was when Kaleb remembered when Payal had entered the Ruling Coalition. “I’m not sure it is genetic. After we seized his aunt’s records, I looked for data to either confirm or negate a rumor I heard during the start of my term on the Council.
“I uncovered evidence that, at one stage, Scott and her former husband both chose to have experimental bioneural implants.” The arrogant stupidity of it stunned him. “The aim of the implant was to control others via a forced neural link.”
“Intriguing. But that doesn’t explain her sister or Ivan.”
“The sister was a Jax addict, and Ivan was exposed in vitro.” All information Ivan had shared with the Ruling Coalition in an effort to assist their search for others with his ability. “Jax opens pathways of the mind. What if it isn’t the power itself that’s genetic, but rather the predisposition to such a specific type of expansion?”
Payal was quiet for a long time before saying, “Even if you’re right, you can’t use it. Jax is a psychological poison pill now.”
Kaleb walked back and forth across his deck. Logic stated that such a thought was ridiculous. A medication was a medication. Used in a way not meant to cause harm, it could be a gift of life. And yet . . . how would they know it wouldn’t cause harm? How could they control the exposure?
Since Kaleb would—with zero remorse and no guilt—end the life of anyone who suggested child subjects, it would have to be adult volunteers with the right brain structure. And then what? Ivan had survived because he’d been exposed in vitro, then again at a very young age. His mother, the adult user, had died.
No autopsy had ever been done, so they had no idea of the state of her brain at the time of her overdose.
“We might have to go back to the original plan,” he said to Payal. “Have a powerful Gradient hold an island.” A difficult—and perhaps unfeasible—task for a mind not built for it like Ivan’s, but there was a chance it would work as a stopgap measure.
“I’ll agree to the experiment on the understanding that if such an attempt breaks the connection to the Substrate, we call it off at once. Nothing has changed when it comes to the critical shortage of designation A—my people are spread thin, held up by each other, load sharing an integral aspect of the new system we’ve put in place. They’ll burn out and die within days if cut off from the main streams of the Substrate.”
“Agreed.” Kaleb had no desire to agitate the fragile balance the As had created, one that permitted them to rest rather than working until they dropped. Healthier As meant a healthier Net; it was as simple as that.
An exhale into the psychic space. “I don’t want this.” Payal’s voice was taut. “Every single one of our objections continues to apply. But the decision matrix has altered with the continued rise of the Scarabs and the attendant rise in chaotic energy in the Net—we have to attempt a controlled separation before an uncontainable collapse makes the decision for us.”
Unspoken was that they’d have to get the agreement of all those on the Ruling Coalition, as well as the residents of the area where the experiment was to take place. But those were minor hurdles in the grand scheme of things. It was the anchors who held the veto power and they weren’t going to use it.
It was time to purposefully splinter the PsyNet.
Chapter 67
“Mama, Papa made you a little cake!”
“I see that, Dimochka. You’re such a good cub to carry it so carefully to me. Let’s put it down here. That’s it, my sweet boy. You can help me eat it after I give your papa a kiss.”
“You look tired, malyshka.”
“I already feel better now that I’ve had hugs from my two favorite people.”
—A conversation in the office of Dr. Evanova “Nova” Nikolaev (45 minutes ago)
YAKOV STILL HAD a pounding head six hours later, as he sat slumped in an armchair in the den’s infirmary next to Theo’s bed. She’d tried to get out of that bed an hour ago, and faced Nova’s wrath—and her own spinning head. The end result was that she lay impatiently in it, her hand rising to brush the thick and swollen line of her new scar every so often.